


you were a drug i couldn't hide from

by ghoulisms



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, M/M, stupid cuddly puppies pining for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:15:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2306072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulisms/pseuds/ghoulisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>au. they meet in detention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were a drug i couldn't hide from

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from leather jacket love song by the cribs, this is beta'd by me, so mistakes are all mine !!  
> also everyone's alive in this!!!!! i am and definitely always will be in denial!!!!!!!  
> WARNINGS: HOMOPHOBIA

Scott doesn’t know what to do.

It’s cloudy outside and there are shafts across the carpet from a little bit of sun peeking out from the grey, wind waving around the trees and making shadows play across the desks. Coach is gone and he’s stacking books in the library, and the only sound he’s surrounded in is the heavy breathing of the boy two shelves over, and Scott doesn’t think he’s alright at all. The boy is new because Scott has never seen him before, but it sounds like he’s in some kind of trouble and Scott doesn’t know what to _do_.

“Um,” Scott places the book down on the carpet and stands up, his bones creaking from staying in one position for a long time, and he moves books out of the way when he gets to the shelf next to him, peeking in on the boy. “I’m Scott,”

The boy looks up, and he’s all soft features and sharp angles and pretty blue eyes mixed with gold, and his face turns red when he turns to see Scott standing there.

“I just thought, y’know, since we’re the only two here, I thought I should say hi, since we haven’t really met?”

The boy’s face relaxes, his shoulders dropping. He lifts his head and then brings it back down, and he looks defeated, tired, like he wants to say something. He looks a lot of things right now, Scott thinks. 

“I’m Liam,” the boy says, and Scott beams. He sticks his hand through the space where the two books were previously, waving it in Liam’s direction. Liam takes it, tentatively, and when he does it’s a light fleeting touch, a butterfly’s wings, but Scott wants to touch hands more. 

“How come we’ve never met before?” Scott asks, but he already knows. The silence was getting too deafening, too loud of a hum in the air, ringing in Scott’s ears, wracking his brain and making his fingertips buzz with something that isn’t good. He takes a step out from the shelf and he sees Liam’s confused face before he walks around the books littered on the floor, and he leans against the mahogany shelf, careful not to push anything with his feet. 

“Um,” Liam blinks, but then he shakes his head. “I just came here, from, um, another school,” He finishes with a cough, shuffling his feet on the floor in front of him. Scott nods, sensing that he doesn’t want to talk about it. 

“Freshman?” Scott asks, and Liam nods, his head still bent and shoulders hunched, feet making quiet dragging noises on the carpet. Scott hums in the back of his throat, bending down to pick up the books by his feet. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“If we work together, we’ll get done faster,” Scott says, throwing a grin over his shoulder at Liam as he picks up the first book, dusty and yellowed with age, placing it gingerly in between a slightly newer book and one that looks like the same age. He hears Liam behind him, and then seconds later Liam sidles up behind him, holding his own stack and placing them in their rightful places. Maybe Scott looks a bit longer than he’s supposed to be allowed, but he’ll blame that on the fact that the sunlight hits Liam’s face in lines, the trees outside whistling in the wind and Liam’s eyes are edged even more in gold in the oranges and pinks. 

And maybe, for the first time, he doesn’t want to speed up the time that ticks by on the old clock above the doorway, hands chasing each other around in an endless circle that, to Scott, means absolutely nothing.

♡

“Where does this one go?”

Liam’s voice travels in the air, and he’s a few shelves over but Scott hears him clearly, and he walks over to Liam, five books balanced in his palms. Liam stands there, and his eyebrows are drawn in and when he spots Scott standing in front of him his face flushes red again, and his lips twitch upwards a tiny fraction in what Scott knows is a try for a forced smile.

“What does it say?” Scott asks gently, because the air is quiet, as it has been for a while, but it’s comfortable, and he doesn’t want to break it. He wants to keep the quiet in a jar and pull it out on a loud day, when the sounds of cars on the highway make him want to scream when he doesn’t know why, when he’s upset and angry or scared. He thinks that that’d be nice.

“Here, um,” Liam holds the book out, and Scott sets the books he’s holding down on the carpet, the soft thud of it seemingly loud in the humming air. Scott takes the book from Liam, and Liam keeps his hand in the air, wanting to help but he doesn’t know what to do. Scott steps closer to him, almost subconsciously.

Scott looks down at the spine of the book, and the words and numbers are faded and smeared with age, and he can’t blame Liam for not being able to find the place for this book. 

“I honestly have no idea where it goes,” Scott says, eyebrows furrowing and he turns the book over in his hands, and Liam is looking at him, his eyebrows raised and the sky outside is cloudy, and Liam’s face is half shadow and half light, and Scott shouldn’t still be able to see the gold in his eyes but he does.

“Have you even ever done this before?” Liam asks, and his voice is still the beat of a butterfly’s wings. Scott shoots a crooked grin at him.

“Sort of, but I’ve never come across a book that had an incoherent reading on the spine,” 

“That looks like a G, doesn’t it? And that sort of looks like a squished eight,” Liam says, and Scott hears the smile in his voice before he sees it. 

“What do we do with it?” Scott says, and he’s smiling now, and Liam looks at him, his face still bathed in a conflicting battle of colours. 

“We won’t be able to leave without every single one of the books put up, though,”

“Coach isn’t back yet,” 

(Scott doesn’t add in the part where he wants to suggest that they ditch detention and run away from the building, like he’s seen in all of those movies when he was younger, all wide brown eyes and wonder and _will I ever get that feeling, too_?)

Liam shakes his head, “I don’t want to be in here for another day, though. I’ve been in here enough,” His face scrunches up and becomes guarded with an expression that Scott can’t quite place; loathing, sadness, tiredness. There’s a crinkle in between in eyebrows that Scott wants to thumb over, tell him it’s okay, that whatever he’s feeling now won’t last forever. He coughs, pushes the feelings that are bubbling over the surface down, down deep enough where he can’t feel the warmth pooling in his stomach.

“At least we’re in here together,” Scott says, and Liam flushes red again, his ears going pink and his eyes are bright when he looks up.

“Yeah,” he says, and his face is like sunshine peeking over mountain tops, and Scott thinks he’s got a light in all of the corners in him, “it’s not so bad when you’re here.”

♡

Liam’s shadow stretches long across the lacrosse field, his shoulders hunched as he turns around to Scott and cups his hands around his mouth, and his voice is a butterfly’s wings beating against Scott’s brain, and Scott watches him, watches the light across his hair and the golden outline against Liam’s silhouette. 

“Thank you,” 

And Scott doesn’t know what he’s being thanked for, but he watches as Liam turns away and starts walking, Scott’s brain static and humming in the air. 

♡

Scott sees Liam again on Monday, his hair disheveled and lacrosse uniform loose around his shoulders as he runs up to Coach, panting something out between breaths about Garrett and the locker rooms. Stiles looks from him to Scott, and he’s smirking.

“Dude,” he says, and he brings his palm up to Scott’s shoulder, and his slap his full of fondness, but Scott pushes his hand away, feeling his neck heat up. “Someone crushin’ on a freshman, eh?”

“Stop,” Scott groans, and he pushes Stiles out of the way as he walks over to Liam, now sitting on the bench with his head in his hands, helmet and gear abandoned beside him, shoulders rising and falling with rapid breaths. Scott sits down beside him, raising a hand up to rest on Liam’s bony shoulder, but Liam ducks from his touch, shaking his head rapidly. 

“Liam?”

“No, Scott, I’m—not when I’m—I don’t—” Liam’s words are jumbled and his face is red, but not the lightly tinged pink that happened when Scott was around, but a fierce red, but all Scott sees is the soft golds of his eyes, but when Liam catches his looking at him straight in the eyes, he shuts them and his fists unclench. Scott places his hands on Liam’s, knowing he won’t look at him but he speaks softly anyway,

“It’s okay, Liam, just tell me what happened? Do you want to tell me?”

Liam takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out. He keeps his eyes shut, and Scott yearns to see the golds and blues again, but he doesn’t say anything, keeps quiet and tamps down on the feeling bubbling in his chest.

“Garrett—he. In the locker room, he—”

“It’s alright, Liam, it’s okay,”

Scott rubs Liam’s wrists, thumbs circling over the unusually cold flesh. 

“He just said some stupid stuff, that’s all,” Liam says, and for a second his fingers clasp onto Scott’s, but it’s gone a moment later. “I don’t pay him any mind, he’s just,” He takes a deep breath again. “I’m over it.”

Scott smiles, nodding. Liam opens his eyes, and Scott beams. “Don’t worry about him, Liam, it’s okay,” he says, and Liam nods. Scott gives his hands a reassuring squeeze before he stands up again, bending down to give Liam his gear. Liam takes it with a shaky hand, and he looks up at Scott once more before Scott leaves, and he says

“Thank you, Scott. For everything,”

Scott is reminded of shadows on the field, voices like a butterfly’s wings and Liam stands up and walks over to his place, mask hiding the pink tint to his face and ears. Scott still doesn’t know what he’s being thanked for, and he walks over to Stiles with his head blank and jaw slack.

“Dude, you’re so gone,” Stiles whispers, before taking off, mask over his face as well but Scott is staring at Liam, watching his movements on the field, and Scott knows when he ducks out of the way of a dark figure the person is Garrett. 

His stomach churns at the thought of what Garrett could have possibly said to Liam, what he did before Liam could get out, and he feels sick that he wasn’t in there, he shouldn’t of left the two alone together, Scott was the last one out before they were alone together. 

But he plays, he plays the game like he’s supposed to, the sun high in the sky and the clouds that were out on Friday fading, but his mind is buzzing and his fingertips are buzzing and he wonders if to make the buzzing stop he would have to touch hands with Liam again. He thinks that wouldn’t be bad.

♡

“Kira, what do I do? Garrett obviously hates Liam, and you saw him Monday, he was so upset, but I don’t know what Garrett said to make him like that. Do I tell Coach to separate them? I’m the captain, and maybe if I explain—”

“Scott,” Malia unwraps her hand from around Kira’s waist to place it on the table, inches away from Scott’s, and Scott knows that Malia isn’t a very touchy person, she doesn’t like to be touched and she doesn’t want to touch other people except for Kira, but her eyes are soft and hazy in the moonlight that spills across her face in the room. Scott locks eyes with her. “Chill.”

Kira sighs, the sound drawn out in the warmth of the air, and she wriggles a little in her spot on Malia’s lap to quiet her, looking at Scott sincerely. “What Malia is trying to say, is that maybe you should talk to him? And if Garrett goes after him anymore, talk to Garrett—”

“I’ll talk to him if you won’t,” Malia says, and her face transforms into one of anger, and Scott raises his eyebrows at Kira, who sighs again, placing her hand over Malia’s on her thigh. 

“A couple of weeks ago, when lacrosse season started Garrett cornered me in the locker rooms after he found out I was on the team,” 

“He’s an asshole,” Malia cuts in, her voice cold and bitter, sharp in Scott’s ears. Kira squeezes her hand, and Malia turns her eyes to Scott’s again, and they’re dark and guarded now, but underneath that Scott can still see the softness, the one she harbours for Kira, for her friends and her family. “He thinks that just because Kira is female she doesn’t need to be on the team, and if you don’t talk to him, I will, Scott, I _will_ talk to him myself—”

“I know, Malia,” Scott sighs, resting his head on the open textbook lying in front of him, words and numbers jumbled together in the moonlight. His head hurts and his fingertips are still buzzing. He can feel Malia deflate beside him, can hear Kira whispering in her ear, hear the soft footfalls of his mom outside of the door as she gets ready for bed. Cars are just tiny pinpricks of light on the street below, and Scott thinks of something soft, something fleeting, something a lot like butterfly’s wings in the quiet of the midnight air.

♡

“Scott! Hi,” 

Allison’s face is grainy and blurry with the screen and the connection of the call, but Scott smiles at her anyway, thinking of the many miles between them and how it’s late there, in Beacon Hills, but in Paris it’s different. 

“How’ve you been?” Allison’s voice is soft and her hair is a mess, longer than the last time they were in the same room, right before Allison’s flight. Everyone was there, eyes puffy and red and bloodshot, and Scott remembers Lydia didn’t come out of her room for a week, and when she did that Sunday, she went to Scott’s house, silent but her presence a heavy weight on the room, weighed down by sadness and frustration. Scott smiles sadly.

“I’ve been good, Allison, you?” 

Allison sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and she leans back in the chair, eyeing Scott carefully over the camera. Scott shifts; Allison has always been able to tell when he was confused and upset.

“I’ve been great, Scott, but you look like you’re battling something. Tell me,”

Allison raises her eyebrows, and Scott stares at her for a few seconds before practically deflating under her gaze, cold moonlight filtering in through the windows, and it’s just the two and the ball of silver hanging in the sky, the wind whistling through the open window and Scott’s words filling the crisp air, hanging on a rope before he lets them fall.

“There’s this guy, right, and he’s new, he’s a freshman. He’s on the lacrosse team, and I got put in detention with him, but that’s a story for later. But there’s this other boy—Garrett, and he seems to be causing trouble for him. And I asked Kira what I should do and she said talk to him, but what do I say? What if it doesn’t work?”

Allison is smiling softly at him from over the camera, miles away but it’s still the bright dimpled smile Scott knows, all teeth and tongue and face bursting with fondness. Scott’s mouth twitches, and his mind is racing and his heart is beating so, _so_ fast, filled with butterfly touches and soft-spoken words, flittering in the air over shelves and books, over the wind and the time on the wall. His fingertips buzz with electricity again, and he’s starting to accompany the feeling with soft blue eyes with flecks of gold in them. He takes a deep, shaky breath, anchors himself, focuses on Allison’s words.

“I agree with Kira, I think,” Allison says, and Scott looks up at her, watches as she raises her eyebrows and her face takes on a thinking expression, and Scott listens intently. “Try talking to both of them? Maybe this Garrett first, see what his deal is. Tell Coach about it if it doesn’t stop; maybe he could do something,”

“Allison?”

Allison looks at Scott, her face bathed in the sunlight streaming through the windows on her side of the world, distances away from everyone, away from Scott, away from Lydia. Scott smiles, soft and full of adoration.

“Love you,” Scott says, and Allison beams at him from her laptop.

“You should,”

♡

“Liam! Liam, wait,”

Liam swivels around, his shoes screeching on the tiled floors as Scott jogs up to him, hair plastered to his forehead from practice and shoes in hand. Liam’s eyebrows raise, and he gives Scott his full attention. 

“Yeah?”

“I was, um, wondering,” Scott halts in front of Liam, and Liam is looking up at him, Scott looking down, and Scott’s heart goes crazy in his ribcage like a wild animal. “If I could talk to you?”

Liam blinks, surprised, and his ears tint pink, his face shadowed by the opened door to their left. Scott shifts on his toes, and he hears Stiles snort somewhere nearby, turning the corner and leaving the school. A car engine goes off somewhere, and Scott looks at Liam still, watches as he squints up at Scott, eyes crinkled the tiniest bit. Scott finds that endearing. 

“Uh, sure,” Liam says, and Scott’s heart stops and starts, and he feels like howling with happiness. “Where?”

Scott rubs the back of his neck, looking down at his bare feet for a second before he speaks. It’s quiet again, and Liam’s face is still bathed in light, and Scott feels joy all the way in his bones. “I was thinking the lacrosse field? So we don’t have to drive—I have my bike, but I figured—”

“Scott,” Liam smiles, and Scott quiets immediately, jaw going slack and his mind buzzing. His fingertips tingle, wanting to reach out, to touch. Liam wraps his hand around Scott’s elbow and places pressure there, and for a fleeting moment of seconds Scott’s mind quiets, his fingertips dull and his knees feel weightless. _He_ feels weightless. “It’s okay. We can do the bike some other time.”

_Some other time_.

Scott smiles, crooked and bright, and Liam grins back at him, and they both exit the building with sunlight pouring down their backs.

♡

“How is Beacon Hills treating you so far?”

Liam shrugs, his shoulder moving against Scott’s. Scott’s back itches and there’s grass in his hair, tickling his bare feet, but Liam looks happy here, peaceful and undisturbed. There’s stars in the sky and Scott closes his eyes, listening to the sound of Liam breathing next to him, steady, heavy, comforting. Liam is a long shadow when Scott opens his eyes, his body silhouetted against the moonlight, edges soft and blurry and Scott feels drunk, drunk on this moment, drunk on the heavy weight of Liam at his side.

They’re touching like points a to b, thighs and ankles and elbows and shoulders, and Scott’s stomach flutters, his ribcage echoes in his belly, heart hammering like his life is about to end. 

( _If it did,_ Scott thinks, mind stilling around a thought forming in his head, _I wouldn’t be so bothered_ ).

“It’s,” Liam says, and he hesitates, clears his throat. Scott glances up at him from where Liam is sitting up, arms crossed over his chest. “It’s, um, alright,”

“You’ll get used to it,” Scott says, comfortingly, and he wants to reach out and touch, and it seems like the sensation is always there, even if it is hiding behind, in his mind, underneath his skin. It’s still there. “Freshman year, for me, was hell. At least you have better teachers.”

Liam grins, turning his head and looking at Scott. “Yeah,” he says. 

Scott sighs, the sound soft and drawn out in the crisp night air. He doesn’t close his eyes anymore, just looks up at Liam’s silhouette, noticing the curve of his nose and jawline in the moonlight that shines soft and unfiltered in the sky.

“Garrett,” Liam speaks, and his voice is hesitant, and Scott’s stomach churns at the thought of what Garrett has said to Liam. “Garrett—”

Liam’s voice sounds choked and distant, and he lies down, right beside Scott. Scott turns over on his side immediately, and Liam’s eyes are closed tightly, hands shaking like tiny tremors in the earth right before an earthquake at his sides. Scott reaches out, forehead creased and worry in his gut.

“What has Garrett said, Liam?” Scott asks, and his voice is like paper in the humid air, cutting and slicing the silence. Liam takes a shaky breath.

“He—he just,” Liam stops, and Scott can see his nose crinkle in the lamplight from the sides of the field, and Scott squeezes Liam’s wrists, just like he did at practice. “He talks about Kira, and how she shouldn’t be on the team, and I know you know this, and it just—Kira deserves her place on the lacrosse team, deserves it more than _any_ of us. I’m not even saying that to be modest, I’m saying it because it’s _true_ —”

Scott’s vision flares with anger, red hot and bubbling in his stomach. “Liam,” Scott says, “I’m not going to let it happen anymore, that’s for sure. I’m not letting some asshole talk about Kira, or any of my friends. It’s not going to happen,”

Liam nods, eyes still closed. “I know,” he says. “I know, and I’ve tried saying something but then—” 

Scott inches closer to Liam, and there’s heat radiating off of his body but his hands are shaky still, and cold, and when Scott’s cheek bumps Liam’s nose momentarily he’s cold there too. Liam stills and goes stiff for a second, but before Scott has time to panic he feels Liam relax a little, his limbs heavy and lead-like where Scott’s touching him.

“What else?”

But Liam just shakes his head, curling closer to Scott on the grass, and Scott sighs and rests his chin on Liam’s head, Liam letting out small tufts of air over Scott’s collarbones. And they lie like that, and Scott’s mind is whirring into overdrive, anger still rolling in his stomach. He can hear cars and when he closes his eyes he still sees the outline of the lamplight, and Liam is a heavy silhouette in his arms. Everything is outlined in golds and purples, hazy and surreal like a dream, but all Scott can think of is Garrett and how he’s treating Kira and Liam, and how he’s not going to let it happen. He’ll do something. He’ll always do something.

“Scott?” Liam’s voice is small and quiet, and Scott’s heart drops twenty feet to the floor. “Thank you. For all of this,”

“It’s okay,” Scott says, and his grip tightens momentarily on Liam, and Liam lets out a breath, and Scott can feel the soft curve of a smile against his chest. “It’s alright,”

“Who’s your favourite teacher so far?” Scott asks, because he can still feel Liam in his arms, rigid and cold, and Scott’s stomach is still uneasy. 

Liam shrugs, his body moving momentarily next to Scott’s. Scott’s stomach does somersaults in the air. “You know Miss Blake?”

“The one who recently moved to freshman classes?” Scott asks, but he knows exactly who Liam is talking about. “Yeah, I had her.”

“I like her,” Liam says, and his voice isn’t unsteady anymore. It’s strong but still quiet, and Scott feels Liam’s heart against his wrist, where it rests on Liam’s chest. Exactly like that. “The first day, she made the class fun. Didn’t pressure us or anything. She’s real chill,”

Scott smiles, soft and sincere, up to the lamplight. “I see her in the hallways and stuff. She remembers me, says she misses me in her classes,” 

Liam hums, and Scott feels his fingers tighten around the collar of Scott’s shirt, and his hands are warming up against Scott’s collarbones. Scott doesn’t feel the shock of cold anymore. 

When Scott looks down at Liam, curled around Scott’s side, hands a steady weight on his shirt, his eyes are fluttering, and he can see that Liam is trying so hard not to fall asleep, right there on the ground of the lacrosse field, grass damp and humidity a buzzing warmth. 

His heart stops and stutters in his chest, and he thinks; _fuck_.

♡

When Scott drives Liam home later, he’d like to think that he didn’t spend the extra time making sure Liam was okay, that he would tell Scott if anything was wrong, if anything happened. Scott’s hand definitely does _not_ linger on Liam’s wrist for a second too long, but Liam is all bright blue eyes flecked with gold and soft features, soft curves and damn _it_. 

“See you at school,” Scott says, getting back on his bike and holding his helmet in his hands. He can still feel the weight of someone else on the back, someone behind him, and it felt new and exciting, and he can remember Liam’s red face, eyes alight with joy. Hands clasped around Scott’s ribcage, the steady _thrum thrum_ of a beating heart against Scott’s heated back. His whole being itches to feel it again.

“Definitely,” Liam says, and he grins, but Scott can see the tinge of pink on his ears and cheekbones; Scott beams.

He drives away, and he sees Liam in the mirror, a dark silhouetted figure looming behind him, and Scott feels alive for the first time in a long time.

♡

The first lacrosse game is tonight, and Scott’s stomach is doing flips; not the Liam kind, but the kind that he always gets right before a game. Half nerves, half excitement, half _don’t fuck this up_. He’s got his gear ready in the bag beside his bed, and practice is in half an hour. He feels jittery, ready to jump out of his skin with anxiety and excitement. It isn’t his first game, but every game feels different, feels foreign, like he hasn’t done anything like it before.

When they get to the field, the sky is cloudy and grey and he sees Stiles at the far end of the field, talking quietly into the phone. Scott walks over to him, lacrosse stick held in hand and helmet held in his fingers on the other hand. No one else is there, and he can’t help but to feel disappointed that Liam didn’t show up earlier. 

“Who’s that?” Scott asks, watching as Stiles locks the phone and places it into his own duffel bag. 

“Malia,” Stiles says, and he shakes his head. “She says that her and Kira will be here in a little while, they’ve gotta finish something. I didn’t want to ask,”

Scott snorts, plopping himself down on the ground. Stiles follows, and Scott hears Coach’s car pull into the parking lot, hears him swear a few times, followed by a loud thud. Stiles turns to him, blocking out the dim sun over his head. He smirks.

“So,” he says, and he draws out the the last letter, stretching it out between the both of them, “how is your favourite freshman doing?”

Scott feels heat run along his neck, and he shrugs, tries to make it nonchalant. “He’s alright,” Scott says, and Stiles snorts, hears him mumble something a lot like ‘more than alright to you’, but Scott continues on. “Garrett—he still won’t leave him alone.”

Stiles sighs, turning over and placing his hands behind his head. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Scott closes his eyes, focuses on the sounds of cars pulling up now, because his stomach does sickening rolls at the mention of Garrett. “I’m going to try to talk to him,”

Stiles snorts. “You better, before Malia rips him limb from limb,”

Scott smiles softly, and he hears Coach’s voice not too far away, saying something about someone being out of place. The sun still isn’t visible, and the humidity is up again, and Scott’s mind wanders to the night not that long ago, when there were lamplit shadows playing across the field, voices hushed and whispering.

“Mal—Malia, slow down!” 

Scott feels Stiles sit up beside him, and when he opens his own eyes he’s tackled by a heavy body thrown across his, brown hair covering his vision. 

“Scott, hey!” Malia smiles down at him, head resting on his stomach as Kira catches up to her, breathing heavily and hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Malia beams at her. “I win.”

“What’re you doing?” 

Malia closes her eyes from her place on top of Scott, shrugging her shoulders. 

“She— _my God_ —she thought it’d be fun to run off without saying go when I was tying my shoe,” Kira says, plopping herself down in front of all of them, and Scott hears Coach yelling into his phone, sees him waving his arms around. 

“It was a race,” Malia says, folding her hands across her stomach. Stiles snorts. “God, it feels so good out here.”

“Uh,” Scott says, and he laughs, “it’s hot?”

“I know,”

Kira smiles, soft and fond, and Scott feels as if his heart could burst with how much he loves all three of them, and not just here lying on the lacrosse field, sweaty and in a pile on the grass, but all the time. Always.

“Who’s all going to be here tonight?” Stiles asks, watching as Kira leans down to retie her shoe. Scott sits up a bit more, leaning back on his elbows as he looks at Malia on his stomach, eyes open now and looking up at the sky. He shrugs.

“My mom is gonna be here,” he says, and Stiles nods.

“I know that,” Stiles says, and Scott snorts. 

“Is your dad gonna be here?” Malia asks, and Stiles nods his head after a beat of silence.

“Yeah, he told me he’d take off his shift just to be here,” Stiles pauses, looks back at Kira. “Are your parents going to come?”

Kira looks up, knotting her shoes and stretching her legs out in front of her. “Yeah,” she says, and she shrugs, the movement bunching up the fabric of her jersey around her shoulders. 

Scott closes his eyes again, focusing on the steady breathing of Malia next to him. There’s more people arriving now, some going off the the locker rooms to get ready, some sitting on the bleachers. He hears Stiles playing a game on his phone, hears Kira fixing her lacrosse stick in front of him. 

Time passes, as it always does.

When they’re ready to practice, Scott taking his place on the field, he sees Liam come out of the locker rooms, dark red of his jersey visible against the grey of the sky as he takes his place also. Scott’s mind blanks for a second, and then for the rest of practice time he tries not to focus on the buzzing of his fingertips. But it doesn’t work.

♡

They win the game, and after, as Scott is in the dressing room getting changed, Stiles comes up to him and talks about a party, this Friday, and Scott’s eyes wander over to Liam. He’s putting his clothes back into his bag, and he’s a blurry figure against the darkness of outside as it rains, a static silhouette. And he turns back to Stiles, who’s pulling his shirt over his head, hair damp against his forehead, and he nods. 

“Sweet!” Stiles says, patting Scott’s shoulder as he picks up his own bag and throws it over his shoulder. He turns back to Liam, a not so subtle flick of his head, and he looks at Scott knowingly. “Go ahead.”

And Scott does.

Liam is a bit taken aback by Scott’s offer, but he says yes nonetheless, eyes light and the rain makes shadows play across his face, eyelashes like spiderwebs down his cheekbones. Scott beams at him.

♡

Garrett is the last one in the locker room. 

He’s just about to leave, bag held in hand, when Scott decides _this is it_ , so Scott zips up his own bag and stands from where he’s sitting on the bench and walks up to Garrett.

Garrett spins around when he hears Scott, confusion written across his face. The expression is gone a moment later, once he realizes who it is. It’s replaced by a cocky grin, and Scott pulls his bag up higher on his shoulder before he starts speaking.

“Garrett,” Scott says, voice quiet, almost drowned out by the static sound of the rain against the walls outside, against the roof. “I know what you’ve been saying. About Kira. And that you’ve been saying things to Liam too,”

Garrett drops his bag on the floor, sighing loudly. He shrugs. “What about it?”

Scott blinks. “You’re not even going to deny it,”

Garrett shrugs. “You already know, what’s the point.”

Scott takes a shaky breath in, lets it out slowly. His limbs feel heavy and tired, and his head hurts so _much_ and why can’t people just leave others alone?

“And if you don’t stop,” Scott says, and Garrett’s still smirking, the _asshole_ , “I’ll talk to Coach.”

“I’m one of his best players,” Garrett says immediately, and he picks up his bag, silent for a few beats. Scott feels anger bubbling under his skin, red hot and prickling.

“We have players better than you are, Garrett,” Scott says, and he picks up his bag and leaves.

♡ 

Kira’s sitting across from him, a bag of pretzels in her hands and she’s nodding along to the music in her headphones. Malia is behind her in the closet, and she turns around to Stiles, holding up two shirts.

“Which one?” she asks, and Scott looks up from where he’s sitting with his head over the arm of the chair, watching Kira scroll through her playlist. He sees Stiles’ eyebrows furrow, creasing his forehead as he looks at the two choices carefully.

“That one seems more Malia,” he says, and he points to the leather one with studs at the bottom. Scott smiles as Malia looks at it, face shadowed by the lamplight on her bedside table. She nods slowly, and Stiles claps his hands together.

“So, Scottie, is Liam coming?”

Scott looks up at Malia, watches as she locks eyes with him in her mirror. He shrugs. “He said he’d come,”

“Yeah,” Malia says, and she toes off her shoes, gathering up her other items of clothing before walking to the bathroom. “The party starts in an hour, aren’t you supposed to be picking him up?”

And thirty minutes later, Liam’s arms are wrapped around Scott’s ribcage again, his fingertips a light pressure on Scott’s stomach, which is filled with so many fluttering feelings. Scott can feel Liam’s chin on his shoulder, breath fanning over the side of Scott’s face, and Scott thinks he could do this forever.

♡

“Scott! Who is this?”

Lydia comes up to them, eyes bright and her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, but she doesn’t look drunk. Her phone is in her hands, and Scott recognizes the soft bleeping tone as the one she set for Allison, and Scott sees the soft flame in Lydia’s eyes, and Scott’s happy. He’s happy for himself, happy for everyone else. It’s a nice feeling, he decides.

“This,” he says, arm subconsciously going around Liam’s middle. He feels Liam sidle closer to him, and he wants to howl with happiness again. “Is Liam,”

Lydia hums, eyes still bright, and there’s a glint of mischief in the green. “Liam Dunbar? Lacrosse team?”

Liam nods slowly, and Scott rubs small circles in the fabric of his shirt. “Yeah,”

Lydia smirks. “Well,” she says, and she looks down at her phone before turning it off once she reads the message Allison left her, “have fun. See you two,”

Scott thinks he hears her say something a lot like _“You two are cute together”_ when she passes by him, and his stomach feels on fire with happiness.

He turns to Liam, whose eyes are wide in the soft light of the laterns hanging around, and he says, “Thanks for coming with me. You didn’t have to.”

Liam looks at him too, and he’s smiling softly at Scott in the moonlight. “I wanted to. Especially if I’m going with someone so cute,”

Scott swears he hears his heart stop and stutter in his chest, behind his ribcage.

“I’ll be back,” Liam says, and he pats Scott’s hand that moved to his waist sometime in the past three minutes and disappears in the bodies that are crowded around the pool.

Scott sees Malia and Kira in a secluded corner of the party, bodies practically together as one shadow, sees Stiles talking to Boyd, laughing at what he says. He spots Lydia talking to Erica, face open and fond, sees Danny and Isaac talking over by the punch. He smiles softly at all of them, thinking of how Derek said he’d meet up with all of them after the party, thinks of how much he loves every single one of them, with all his bones. And he takes a moment, because this is his life, these are his friends, and this isn’t the first time he’s realized he’d do anything for anyone of them, but the knowledge that they’d do the same is. It settles like something soft in Scott’s stomach.

He thinks of Liam, thinks of soft silhouettes and sunshine, butterfly’s wings fluttering madly inside of Scott’s ribcage. He’s brought back to the moment on the lacrosse field, with their shadows stretching together on the grass in the humid air, thinks of what Liam just said. And his head hurts with the thought of if Liam actually does like Scott, because Scott does. He really likes Liam, wants to hold hands forever with him, wants to have detention again if it means he can relive the moment he first talked to him.

Five more minutes pass, but Liam doesn’t come back. 

Scott looks around, but all he sees is bodies, they’re all silhouettes in the moonlight. He pushes past all of them, mumbles ‘sorrys’ and ‘excuse mes’, but when he gets to the living room inside, it’s all heat and sweat but he doesn’t see Liam. When he climbs up the stairs, he still doesn’t see Liam, doesn’t hear him anywhere, and his heart sinks to the floor, mind whirring with doubt. 

“Excuse me? Who are you looking for?” Scott turns around and there’s a girl standing there, blonde hair in messy curls around her waist. Scott knows her from his chemistry class, knows that she’s the host of the party. He blinks at her.

“Have you seen someone come up here? Younger than most of the people here? Freshman?” 

The girl tilts her head, eyes wandering over to a space above Scott’s shoulder as she purses her lips. Scott can hear his heart in his chest, thudding in a fast rhythm. “There’s a whole bunch of people that come up here,” she says, and Scott’s heart sinks. “But they’re all with someone. The one guy that I saw come up here was alone, and he took a right.”

Scott nods. “Thank you,”

He hears the girl yell a ‘you’re welcome, see you at school’ before he’s turning the corner, and his ears are ringing from the music downstairs, can feel the beats in his fingertips as the paint on the walls blur into one, as he stops in front of a door at the end of the hall.

And Scott’s mind flashes images back to shafts of sunlight falling over the floor, back to the feeling of not knowing how to help the boy shelves over.

He can hear Liam on the other side of the door, and Scott can hear his heavy breathing from where he stands. Scott’s stomach sinks not for the first time that night, and his hand reaches out for the knob.

“Liam?” he says, and his voice is quiet, almost drowned out by the thumping of music, “can I come in? It’s Scott,”

He hears something shuffling across the floor but the door doesn’t open, and Liam doesn’t answer.

“Did something happen? Liam? Can I—can I talk to you from here? Is that good?”

Scott sinks to the floor, head resting on the frame of the door. He curls his arms around his knees, positioning himself so his side is pressed fully to the door. 

“You don’t have to talk, Liam. I just want you to know that if you do, you can talk to me.”

Several beats of silence pass, and Scott’s eyes are heavy, sudden waves of sleepiness washing over him like tides at the beach. His mind is silent, and the music isn’t as loud up here as it was down there, he realizes, it’s just an underwater sound of voices and beats. It’s nice to think about.

“Scott? Are you still there?” 

There’s a sound of the knob turning, and Scott leans back, watches as the door edges open and Liam comes into view. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face is spotted red in places, and Scott reaches out to touch. Liam grabs Scott’s wrist briefly, and it’s a light fleeting touch, but Scott moves to sit in front of the door on the other side, right beside Liam.

Liam immediately situates himself so he’s pressed against Scott’s side, and his fingers are still wrapped around Scott’s wrist. Scott wonders if Liam can feel the heavy beat of his heart, against his pulse point. He probably can. 

Liam drops his head down to Scott’s shoulder once they close the door, and the bathroom smells like bleach and beer, but the sounds downstairs are isolated and heavy, and Scott thinks that it’s alright, for now.

“Liam?”

Liam hums, and Scott sees that his gaze is pointed toward the floor, on a spot on the white tile. “Yeah?”

“Why were you in detention that day?”

Scott’s voice is soft, fleeting in the air of the bathroom. He hears Liam take a deep breath.

“Garrett,” Liam says, and he says the name bitterly, like a bad taste in his mouth. “He’s been doing what he’s doing for a while now,”

“I talked to him in the locker room after the match,” Scott says, and Liam lifts his head up. He turns to Scott. “He didn’t even deny that he was talking about you and Kira.”

“He’s such an ass,” Liam says, and Scott smiles.

“What has he been saying, Liam?” 

Liam stills at that, his whole body going stiff beside Scott’s. Scott’s heart picks up again, ready to say something, say that Liam doesn’t have to talk about it just yet, doesn’t have to do anything he wants to, Scott just wants it to stop—

“He,” Liam says, and Scott hears the hesitation, the shaking of his voice in the stale air of the bathroom, “he knows that, I, um. He knows that I kind of—like guys, so,”

And Scott’s vision blurs with how much anger he feels, how much his stomach does angry flips, how his whole body wants to shake. But Liam continues talking, not seeming able to stop.

“He also knows that I have IED,” Liam says, “I don’t know how he found out, but that’s when everything first started. He knows that I got kicked out of my other school because of it, he knows that I like the captain of the lacrosse team. And I got detention because of him, like I said, because he wouldn’t leave me alone and Coach came up and saw us and I was getting angry, but Garrett didn’t do anything, he never does—”

Liam takes a deep breath, and his face is flushed pink with how much he’s talking, washed out in pale white by the light on the mirror. Scott grabs his hand, taking it in both of his, and he listens.

“And earlier, I was going to get something to drink for us, but apparently he got invited too, and he saw me with you and—”

“Hey, hey,” Scott says, and Liam looks up at him, eyes shining and the flecks of gold in them shouldn’t be able to be seen in the pale light, but Scott sees them. He smiles. “I won’t let Garrett say anything else to you, or Kira. I’ll talk to Coach, I’ll do something,”

Liam nods, and he opens his mouth to speak again, sidling closer to Scott. Scott can count how many places they’re touching in; hips, thighs, ankles, legs, arms. “And sometimes,” Liam says, and his voice is choked off, but Scott rubs his hands, mumbles that it’s okay, he can tell Scott anything. “Sometimes—I know I shouldn’t, but—when Garrett says something about my anger, when I look at myself, I can’t help but to think he’s right. What if he is? What if—”

Scott begins to shake his head, but Liam seems not to notice.

“What if,” Liam says, “what if when I’m not myself, when the anger gets too much, what if I do something? I’m always guilty, but you’re always there, and somehow—somehow it’s okay when you’re around? I feel like myself when you’re here, but what happens if I do something that’s too far? I’m always afraid I’ll hurt someone, and—”

Scott leans forward, pulling Liam with him so he’s sitting in Scott’s lap, and the kiss is clumsy and Scott hears Liam’s breath hitch and it’s messy. Scott can feel Liam’s hands resting on his collarbones, and they’re freezing, but his body is a solid warmth above Scott. Scott’s hands are on Liam’s waist and his heart is beating a mile a minute, and the lights on the mirror are dancing behind Scott’s eyelids, but his mind is quiet for once, he’s touching and making contact with Liam. 

_Fuck_.

Scott pulls back, and Liam’s eyes are heavy and wide, his face is red and hot when Scott leans in again, and Liam stays still. 

“Fuck Garrett,” Scott says, and he kisses the skin below Liam’s eyes, “it doesn’t matter what he says. It doesn’t matter what he thinks,”

He pauses, moving to kiss Liam’s eyes when they shut, his body feeling lead-like on top of Scott’s. “What matters,” Scott says, this time moving down to Liam’s jaw, “is what you really are, and that’s none of what Garrett says. You,” Scott pauses, his voice muffled by the skin above Liam’s collarbone, “are amazing, Liam. And I mean it. You haven’t done anything wrong, and don’t let anyone else tell you what you are or who you are. You have to decide that yourself. Don’t listen to anyone else. You should be proud of who you are.”

Liam looks at him for a beat when Scott pulls back, and his eyes are still shining but he’s smiling softly now. Scott swears his heart stutters in his chest when Liam leans forward, and this time the kiss is slower than the first, more balanced. Liam’s hands are still on Scott’s collarbone, his legs, instead on tangled beneath him, are on either side of Scott. Scott’s hands are still a steady pressure on Liam’s waist, and when Liam’s shirt rides up the tiniest fraction his skin is warm.

His lips are soft over Scott’s, and Scott’s mind is exploding in multitudes of colours, his skin is on fire with electricity. He feels happy all over. Everything is fizzy and pretty and bright like a dying firework, but it’s not dying. Scott knows it’s just the beginning.

“So,” Liam says, pulling away, but only to attach himself to Scott’s neck. Scott smiles. “So, does this mean that—that we’re—”

“We can be—” Scott pulls back, looks Liam in the eyes; his face is flushed and his eyes are bright and shining in the bathroom light. They’re still puffy and Scott’s stomach flutters all the same. His mouth is red and Scott sees red marks over his neck, all over his skin; the knowledge that Scott did that, he gets to kiss Liam now, sets a fire kindling deep in Scott’s stomach. “Whatever you want us to be.”

Liam hums. “I like the sound of that; I think you know what we are already, though.”

And Scott smiles. Because he does. Liam wraps his arms around Scott’s torso and he’s letting out soft snuffling sounds, his face pressed to Scott’s collarbone just like the night on the field. The bathroom light is bright and blinding but Scott decides, he knows, that he could easily spend the rest of his life here, arms around Liam and head tucked into his shoulder.

♡

“Scott, if you’re not going to practice then what _exactly_ are you doing here?”

Scott looks up at Malia from the ground, and he’s got twigs digging into the flesh of his palms. Malia’s arms are crossed, and Kira is sitting against a tree behind her, history book in her hand. She looks up and smiles at Scott and Liam.

“Uh,” Scott says, and he sees Derek from his place on the porch, glasses perched on his nose and eyebrows raised as he turns a page in the book he’s holding. “Ask Liam?”

“Don’t blame this on me, asshole,” Liam says, and he pushes at Scott’s forearm above him. Scott smiles down at him. “You told me to come for practice.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to practice,”

“Stiles isn’t here,” Derek deadpans, and Malia turns to him. “Can’t practice without everyone here.”

“I want to take a nap,” Malia says, and she unfolds her arms and sits down next to Kira, twining their fingers together and throwing her ankle over Kira’s. It looks comforting and close and private, and Scott looks away, staring down at Liam beneath him.

Liam’s got his eyes closed and Scott can still feel Liam’s hands around his wrists, just a light thing, soft pressure. It’s nothing, but it’s everything, and Scott just stares down at him, watching the way his chest rises and falls with steady breaths, the patterns his eyelashes make across his cheekbones. The sun is high and bright in the sky, and it’s humid and muggy and Liam’s body is solid and warm beneath Scott’s, and Scott smiles into the crook of Liam’s neck. 

Scott always feels this way with Liam—like he’s about to explode in mini bursts of light, fireworks and colours and warmth. His head is filled with what he likes to think of as champagne bubbles, fizzy and alive, and his whole being vibrates with happiness to the core. He wants to witness every second with Liam, because he’s come to realize that he doesn’t mind the feeling in his stomach or his head, because he knows he’ll love everything if it’s with Liam.

“What are you staring at me for?” Liam’s voice is soft background noise against the twittering of birds and the murmur of Kira’s voice, mingling sometimes with Malia’s. Scott shakes his head, putting his head back into the crook of Liam’s neck. He doesn’t answer; he already knows Liam doesn’t mind his staring.

He feels Liam smile against his cheek.

♡

Scott’s stomach is flipping and he can’t seem to stop himself from fiddling with his shirt sleeve, and Liam is there beside him but Mason is staring at him.

“Mason,” Liam says, and he looks up at his friend, and Scott’s heart leaps to his throat, “this is Scott.”

And that’s all he says. Mason’s face remains expressionless for a moment before he’s grinning, the edges of him blurry in the afternoon sunlight. He reaches over to clap Scott on the back, ruffles Liam’s hair. 

“He never shuts up about you,” Mason says, and his voice is soft as he looks at Liam. Scott sees Liam’s face go pink and his hand is warm around Scott’s. Scott beams, and he doesn’t feel so worried anymore. Mason smiles at him. “I have to tell you though, you hurt him, don’t think I won’t do something about it.”

His voice turns fierce and he eyes Scott carefully, but Scott can see that Mason’s eyes are still soft, and Liam squeezes his hand.

“I give you permission to, if I do,” Scott says, and Mason nods and smiles still. Scott feels like he’s floating.

♡

“Has Lydia told you yet?”

Scott looks at Allison over the line, her face bright and shining in the moonlight that’s spilling from her window, miles away in France. Liam is somewhere in the house, and it’s early for them to be up on a Sunday, but Scott thinks it’s worth it. 

He shakes his head slowly, smiling softly. “No,”

Allison’s dimples come out in full force, and she adjusts herself on her bed, and there’s a shuffling noise from the blankets as she stills. She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. 

“Next summer,” she says, and she closes her eyes for a minute, opens them a second later. Scott nods, lets her know that he’s listening, that he’s waiting. “Next summer, Lydia says that she’ll be able to come to France. To visit me,”

Scott’s stomach does happy flutters, and he beams at Allison over the line. “That’s great!”

Allison nods happily, and Scott sees that her eyes are glossy; she pulls her sweater sleeve down hastily and wipes her face. “She told me that she would be able to last week, but with school stuff here I haven’t had time to call you.”

Scott nods, understanding. “I know, it’s alright. I’m happy for you. For the both of you.”

Allison takes a shaky breath, lets it out slowly. Her voice is soft when she speaks again. “I’m happy too. Hopefully, soon, I can come down there, to see all of you.”

“That would be great.”

It’s quiet after that, a comforting silence. All Scott can hear is Liam in the kitchen, rattling around with something, and Allison’s breathing. He’s happy, he’s comfortable, and he speaks with certainty, but he can still feel the shakiness underneath his skin.

“Allison?” 

“Yeah?” Allison looks up at him, hair falling in her face. Scott sees textbooks scattered around her, can hear the almost silent hum of the night air outside her open window. His heart beats fast in his chest. 

“You remember the last time we talked? And what I talked about?”

“Yeah, why? What happened?” Allison leans forward, and Scott holds up a hand, places the laptop on the side of the bed before he gets up, walks to the kitchen.

When he comes back, Liam’s hand is held in his and his eyes are wide, a bowl of cereal in his hands as he sits down hesitantly by Scott’s side. 

Allison looks at the both of them, and there’s confusion written across her soft features, then recognition. She grins.

“Is this—?”

Liam stills, and Scott can feel his heartbeat pick up against his wrist. Scott squeezes his hand, just like he did the day that he told Mason that they were together.

“This is Liam,” Scott says, and Allison grins wider. Allison figures out the rest for herself, because she looks at Liam and smiles at him, kind as ever.

“Take care of him for me, while I’m not there,” she says, and Liam nods, melting against Scott’s side; his limbs are heavy and comfortable against Scott and he continues eating his cereal, nodding along to what Allison is saying. Scott feels like he’s going to burst with light and happiness with how light he feels. Everything has gone so _well_. “Don’t hurt him, which I’m sure you won’t, just like he wouldn’t you.” Then she pauses, seems to think something over, before leaning forward, still looking at Liam. She whispers, “I like you already.”

Liam looks up at that, and Scott watches as he smiles shyly but brightly up at Allison. Allison smiles softly at the both of them. “Same goes for you too, Scott,”

Scott nods, hands tightening around Liam. “Understood,”

Allison watches them for a moment more, her eyes bright and soft in the moonlight, edging her in silver and white, washing out her blue walls in a more pale shade. 

“Love you,” she says, and Scott’s mind flutters to the last conversation that they had, and he grins.

“You should.”

♡

“I’m happy,” Liam says. Scott pulls back from his body, hands still on his waist, and he just looks at him. He raises his eyebrows, watches as Liam’s ears and face tinge pink and his eyes lock with Scott’s.

“Why shouldn’t you be?”

Liam shrugs, movement bunching up the fabric of his shirt. Scott realizes that it’s his shirt, the cotton of it soft and the colours are fading but Liam looks good in it; it’s too big around his arms and Scott’s heart flutters. 

“Because of what’s happened the past couple of weeks,” Liam says, and he closes his eyes, puts his face on Scott’s chest. Scott hugs him closer.

“I’ve already taken care of that, Liam, you don’t have to worry about Garrett anymore,”

And it’s true; Scott talked to Coach and Coach suspended Garrett from the team until he stops being an asshole. Scott doesn’t think that’ll ever happen, but Garrett is still fuming and at least he leaves Liam and Kira alone now. 

“Yeah, I know,” Liam looks up at him, watches Scott’s face for a few fleeting moments. “But I don’t understand—Garrett was really close to Mason and I. But when we all went to high school, Garrett turned into an asshole? Mason doesn’t get it either, and when I think about it it doesn’t make sense, at all.”

Scott rubs circles into the small of Liam’s back, the fabric of his shirt bunching underneath his fingers. Liam shakes his head. “I guess people really do change, y’know?” he says, and Scott hums.

“Sometimes,” Scott says, “but you don’t deserve to be around anyone who makes you feel like shit. And Garrett did that to you, so I wouldn’t worry about it. You have Mason, you have me. Hell, you even have Lydia and Stiles, Allison, Kira, Malia…You have a lot of people that love you, Liam. They’re all around you.”

Liam nods, and he’s smiling softly. He leans forward, presses his forehead to Scott’s. “I know.” Then he pauses, leans forward once more, kisses Scott’s nose. “Thank you.”

“Why—”

“Because,” Liam takes a breath, looks at Scott directly in the eye, “because you make me feel better. All this time, ever since we met in detention, you made me feel…like what Garrett has been saying wasn’t true. And you make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me, that there isn’t anything wrong with anyone. It’s just the kind of person you are, Scott.” He pauses again. “I’ve always thought that when I’m angry, I won’t be me anymore. Like it’ll be permanent. But it won’t be, because I’ve realized that the only person who can make me happy, who can make a difference in myself, is me.”

Scott nods. “Yeah,”

“And I’m thanking you because you’re just a really awesome person, and you deserved to be thanked by someone once and awhile.”

“You realized that all by yourself,” Scott says, and his voice shakes in the sudden quietness, buzzing around in his head. He pulls Liam closer to him, feels him breathe against his own body. Liam nods.

“Yeah.”

And then they’re quiet, and Scott leans forward and he kisses Liam, straight and full on the mouth. Liam lets out a soft noise in the back of his throat, and his hands tighten momentarily around Scott as Scott rolls them over, and it’s like the night in the bathroom at the party; Liam on Scott’s lap, knees on either side of him, Scott’s hands on Liam’s waist.

And it’s like that; the buzzing silence of the room swimming in Scott’s head, Liam’s body, warm and solid on top of him, and the only sounds he hears are the ones Liam makes, soft in the still air. He’s licking into Scott’s mouth and Scott’s brain is short-circuiting, his skin is on fire and all he feels is static electricity running through his veins like blood. It’s warm and the window that’s open above Scott’s bed is letting in humid air, and he doesn’t like the heat much but Scott couldn’t be happier. 

Scott pulls away and Liam chases after him, and he makes another soft noise, his face flushed a light pink and his eyes bright in the moonlight spilling through the window. Scott smiles, and he knows it’s big and stupid and fond, but Liam is looking at him with wide eyes and Scott can see every single fleck of gold and he thinks _fuck_ , because even after these past few weeks Scott’s stomach still flips and when he’s not touching Liam somehow his fingers buzz.

“I’m glad that I had detention with you that day,” Scott says, into the dark quiet of the room. Liam is wrapped around him, body a solid weight on top of Scott, and his breathing is easy and free. Scott feels him smile against the curve of his collarbone, hands tightening around his waist.

His voice is quiet when he speaks, and he looks straight at Scott, eyes still wide and face still pink and Scott thinks he’s just really pretty and an all around great person, and it’s been hours since their conversation with Allison but Scott can still remember it clearly.

“I am too.”

**Author's Note:**

> wow!! ! i think this is the fastest ive finished a fic?? and the first fic ive finished since the h/l one??? wow. i???? ive been working on this since august, and i was planning on finishing it by the end of august and publishing it, but school. but it's up now  
> this is my baby, im v proud of it wow  
> anyway, i hoped you liked it!! if you have any question, you can find me here  
> http://fondhearts.tumblr.com/


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